


The Day After (the War was over)

by LeeMorrigan



Series: Diana's Memories and Dreams [2]
Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: 6th sense, Amazonian traditions, Dead Languages, Dreams, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Memories, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: While working with Etta, Diana learns that Charlie has a lot to celebrate and has invited the team, so Chief comes with Diana to visit Charlie and his new bride, in Scotland. Meanwhile, Etta is navigating her post-war career and Sameer is doing the same. Each of them will be visited, in different ways, by someone very dear to them all. Also has my attempt to explain how Diana got the sword she has in JUSTICE LEAGUE, as well as why it looks different from her 'godkiller' and why it has that etching on it.





	The Day After (the War was over)

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own WONDER WOMAN, Steve Trevor, or any other characters from the 2017 movie. I am merely dabbling in the DC sandbox. I do not know how Diana got her sword she's using in BATMAN V. SUPER/JUSTICE LEAGUE, however I had an idea and had to write it. The sword-story ended up becoming this tale of how Steve is still looking out for his team.  
> Thank you for reading, and enjoy!

Cold, damp, foul smelling, full of shouting and other loud noises. Diana would have known it was London even if she had not been listening to Etta complain for two hours about the miserable London weather they would be going into. Even the boat trip had been cold, damp, foul smelling, and full of sailors shouting at one another. Although, seeing Etta handling the hustle and bustle of the city, Diana could not help the small smile that bloomed on her lips.

“You would think people would move for two ladies, especially one as tall as you.”

“I suppose they are still enjoying the post-war revelry.”

Etta huffed, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

“No, this is the normal rudeness of city life. It does not smell like a brewery the way it did after…”, she trailed off. After Diana and the team returned, without Steve. After they defeated Ares.

“Thank you, for the help. I don’t think I could have gotten this done for Adam, if you hadn’t come with me.”

Diana came to walk beside Etta, laying a gentle hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. Adam Hallus, the agent Etta now worked with in the post-war spy world, was convinced there was a contingent of Dr.Poison’s group still out there and still aiming for world dominion. Etta and Diana had found little to support his hypothesis, however Diana had been glad of the distraction.

They wound their way through the narrow, winding streets until they reached the hotel they were meeting Adam in. He was set to arrive the following evening and Etta would fill him in on their meager findings. Adam had been checking on something in France while Etta and Diana were handling their bit. Diana was not sure she could have been as helpful if Etta had asked her to come to France with her, though she was glad to be of assistance to her friend.

Upon arriving at the hotel, Diana fell back for Etta to handle getting their room. She was still learning this world and preferred to observe those she trusted, in order to gain a better understanding of how these things worked. It was what Antiope would have directed her to do, had she been able to come along when Diana left Themyscira. With all that had happened, one belief within Diana that had not changed was the belief that her aunt would have come with her, leaving Hippolyta, her soldier-sisters, and even Menalippe, to fulfill her sacred oath.

Etta had gotten them a larger room with two beds and a nice view of the front of the building across the street. For some reason, this was considered the more desirable view from what could be seen from the sides or back. Diana considered, as she gazed from their window, what horrible sights must await those who take the less desirable views.

“Would you like to go out, get some coffee or check out the market? We’ve still another hour or so of daylight.”

Diana shrugged. She could stay in and speak with Etta, or go out and still enjoy her friend’s company. Either way, she would enjoy her time.

“I’ve an urge to stretch my limbs.”

Diana nodded.

“Then let us visit the market.”

Etta smiled brightly and lead the way. Diana followed, a small smile of her own. Perhaps there would be someone selling ice cream. She had tried Vanilla, Chocolate, and one that had been flavored with chunks of a local fruit she did not remember the name of. All of them had been delicious.

Upon returning to their hotel, Diana spotted a familiar form installed within the shadowed corner of the lobby. Tall, with a wide-brimmed hat, in a dark navy coloured trench coat. She smiled before Etta spotted the same figure.

“Is that?”

“Yes.”

Etta rushed forward, drawing the man from his shadow in order to open his arms for the fierce hug he was hit with. Diana shook her head, bemused. Chief looked up at her, his own smile wide enough to make his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Diana soon was close enough to engage in conversation with the two. She could hear Etta excitedly chatting away about their trip, the boat they took back, the food, the terrible London weather, the rude people, and how Adam would be arriving the following evening. Chief nodded, the smile never leaving his face.

“Would you care to dine with us, Chief?”, Diana asked. At least then he could enjoy his dinner and have a comfortable seat while they all got caught up.

“I think I would like that. Do you suppose this establishment will allow me?”

Diana stood taller, raising her chin. Etta called it her ‘Princess Pose’. Charlie referred to it as her, ‘I am in charge and you will obey my commands’ pose. By either name, it intimidated most who encountered it.

“They will allow you to dine with us, Chief.”

Going straight ahead, Diana headed towards the dining room of the hotel. It was only a short walk from the main lobby. A man in a suit stepped forward, barring the path into the dining room. He was tall, almost the same height as Chief, however he had a weak chin and a sweaty forehead. He also had rather fowl breath that offended Diana’s nose irritatingly.

“Miss, I can not permit you into the dining room, at present.”

“And why, may I ask?”

“Because, miss, you aren’t dressed.”

Diana looked down at her clothes, perfectly acceptable for being in London with these people who did not permit women to have clothing allowing full movement, air upon the skin, or much functionality at all. She was not in her battle attire or the loose men’s shirts she often sported when alone in her room.

“I believe I am fully clothed. As are my companions. Now, let us pass.”

“Miss, you aren’t dressed for dinner. You’ve… work clothes.”

“What does that matter? I am fully dressed, I am here, and I am hungry.”

“I will be happy to let you in, miss, once you’ve gone up to your room and changed into the proper attire.”

Etta stepped forward, dressed a bit more finely than Diana, thanks to a distaste for the skirts Diana favored that were shorter and easier to remove. She also had taken the time that morning to style her hair, while Diana had mostly tucked hers under her hat, much the way she had the first time Etta had helped her get dressed for the world of Men.

“Sir, my companions and I have had a very long trip from Greece, and we are all very tired. Perhaps you could seat us in a shadowed, dark corner most will not even notice. Or near the kitchen? Then it won’t matter that we’re not dressed.”

He sighed.

“I could give you a menu and you could order from here, and I will have it brought to your rooms. I will not have it charged for the delivery, only the meal. Will that satisfy?”

Etta nodded.

“I’ll have the steak and roasted potato. My friend will have the same, as well as some fruit.”, she looked at Chief, “What’ll you have?”

Chief smiled, looking up at the hotel staffer.

“Black coffee and some fresh fruit, if you’ve got any.”

Diana added, “Have them send two pots of hot, black coffee to the room. Our journey was quite long and we’ve much to discuss.”

The man nodded, then waved down a waiter and repeated the order to him before sending him off to the kitchen, then turning his attention back to Diana, Etta, and Chief.

“Which rooms are you staying in?”

Etta spoke up first.

“3J. Name’s Etta Candy.”

He nodded.

“The food and coffee should be up shortly.”

He let out a breath, clearly irritated at having been questioned. Diana was still bewildered by the rules these Men had for such simple things. Dresscodes for dinner, corsets, stockings, rules based on skin colors, chairs meant entirely for fainting on. The world of Men was forever confounding her.

Diana turned and headed up to she and Etta’s room, knowing Etta and Chief would follow suite. They made it to the room quickly, shutting themselves inside to await the delivery of their coffee and meals. They had barely closed the door behind them when Etta fell onto her bed with a groan. Chief chuckled.

“Still the Patron Saint of Patience, Ms.Candy?”

Etta growled, her face still pressed into the bed. Diana smiled up at Chief.

“I believe that man would be enough to make a saint punch him.”, Etta commented. Turning her head so she was looking at Chief and Diana, she added, “And I’m not Catholic, so I can’t be a saint anyway.”

Chief shrugged.

“Most saints were hardly saints before historians got hold of their stories.”

Etta made a face as if she had bitten into a bad onion, then let out a slow breath and closed her eyes. She had dark circles below those eyes and her color was a bit pale. Diana had worried about her. Since Steve’s death, it seemed Etta had doubled her efforts in everything she did, and without Steve to look after her and to steer her from driving herself into the ground.

Diana had been traveling, trying to find her bearings in this world. Chief had been traveling as well, Sameer was working on his acting career, and Charlie was back in Scotland to live a peaceful life- if not a quiet one. From what Sameer had told her, before they had parted company the last time, Charlie had a sweetheart from before the War, whom he had been aiming to return to and properly court. Diana had not heard from him since he left for Scotland, so she chose to assume things were going well.

Chief moved to sit in the chair on the corner, leaving the second chair for Diana. She opted to join him, moving to uncinch her shoes and let her hair down as she removed her hat. Chief, of all the men she had met while traveling with Steve, had been the most comfortable with Diana’s preference for her armor from Themyscira and the clothing she wore in private.

“Where have you been lately, Chief?”, Diana asked.

“I was back in the States for a bit, then I felt the need to come to Iceland, then to Ireland to visit with a friend who had a need for some help from someone with my connections. He had a little problem with a piece of art he had come into possession of.”

“What brings you to London?”, Etta asked as she rolled onto her side to look at her friends.

“Charlie sent me a letter. Didn’t get it till I was in Ireland. He got married two months ago.”

Etta smiled brightly.

“Oh well, congratulations are in order! I’ll have to send him a telegram and perhaps take them to lunch or something, if I ever see them.”

“I am on my way to visit them. They are expecting a baby.”

Etta’s eyes went wide.

“When did they marry?”

Chief grinned.

“A little over a month ago.”

Etta visibly swallowed. Diana smiled. She knew enough to understand. Etta was a bit scandalized, despite her general ‘live and let live’ motto, seeing as how these people generally had to be three or four months into a pregnancy before they would announce it to anyone aside from a spouse or their mother.

“Charlie wrote to inform me of the wedding and the baby. He’s convinced his son will be the next best sniper in Scotland.”

Etta shook her head, then let herself fall back onto the bed. Chief leaned closer to Diana, whispering, “She’ll be the first of several daughters.”

“How can you know that?”, Etta asked. “It could just as easily be a boy. Or twins, one of each.”

Diana smiled, looking between the two. She did not question the things Chief said. He was one of the few she had encountered so far, in Man’s world, that seemed to understand things the way some of the Amazons in Themyscira had. Diana was inclined to believe Charlie and his wife ought to expect a baby girl, and more to follow.

“When do you leave?”, Diana asked.

“First thing in the morning. I wanted to visit my two favorite spies first.”

Chuckling from the bed, Etta looked up at Chief.

“Flatterer.”

Chief shrugged. Diana shook her head at them, then reached for the ties of her skirt. She was going to peel out of her outer layers, but was interrupted by the door. A quick succession of raps informed them that their coffee and meals were ready. Chief stood, going to the door. Etta followed, grabbing her purse to get some tip money. Diana continued to pull off layers. She loathed all the layers London women wore.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The sun shone brightly upon the gentle waves, a light breeze caressed Diana’s cheeks as she turned her face upward, eyes closed. Even with the chill in the spring-time air, the Scottish sunshine felt wonderful. A warm, welcome change from London. Beside her, Chief tilted his head back to allow the sun on his face, rather than the brim of his large hat.

“Charlie said he was going to be waiting for us at the docks. Mary is back at the house, according to his note.”

Diana nodded, still enjoying her sunshine.

“This remind you more of home?”

“Yes. Much more so than London.”

“London is it’s own animal.”

On that, Diana could not disagree. Within half an hour, they were at the docks, disembarking from their ship. Diana had her usual small bag that mostly contained her Amazonian attire, her one other change, and her shield was hidden in a small suitcase with rope tied around it to make it look like a well-traveled, very battered piece of junk. Something not worth stealing. Chief had been the one to suggest it, back in France, when they were heading back to meet Etta in London.

“Do you see him?”, Diana asked as she looked around. Next to her, with only his small duffel on his back, Chief continued to look. Then he smiled and pointed. Diana followed the line from his pointed finger. There, to the far right of where they were, was Charlie. He was driving a small wagon, wearing a large smile.

The waved to him, then moved toward the shore-end of the dock. Charlie hopped down from the driver’s seat to greet them both with enthusiastic hugs and then almost seemed to bounce as he explained how excited he and Mary were to have them for a visit. He was excited to introduce Diana to all the best Scotland had to offer and he looked forward to having Chief talk to Mary to make her listen to him about taking it easy while she was in the family way.

Once he had the two of them, and their effects all loaded up in the wagon with the supplies he had been getting for the farm, they headed out to join Mary. The whole way, Charlie chatted away about the farm, married life, how wonderful a mother he knew Mary would be in another three months when the baby was expected. Judging from the look on Chief’s face, Diana was willing to bet they had the delivery date wrong.

It took almost two hours for them to get to the little farm. There was smoke coming from the chimney, a warm glow in the windows, and the front door sported the half-wilted remains of what had probably been some decorations for the newlyweds when they arrived at their new home. Charlie let out a holler, one Diana wouldn’t have been surprised to learn was heard all the way back in London.

“Come along, I canna already smell the stew!”

Charlie all but flew from the bench seat, down to the ground, heading for the front door. Chief and Diana exchanged an amused look, before climbing down and following Charlie. Just inside, they were enthusiastically greeted by a woman in her early 30s with shiny brown hair in a simple braid, a bright smile, and eyes like chocolate. Diana was pulled into a fierce hug as the woman spoke with a brogue thicker than Charlie’s.

“Diana! The Princess of Battle! I’m so happy to finally meet you!”, she exclaimed as she embraced Diana. Then, moving to Chief, she gave him the same fierce hug and excited shouted, “And Chief, wisest scoundrel of the west! I’ve heard so much of your adventures with Charlie!”

Charlie brought them each a cup of tea, then turned to his bride with a wide smile.

“I’m off to tend the horses and luggage. Don’t start dinner without me.”

Mary smiled up at him, making her way back to the kitchen.

“Aye, but we may finish without yee.”

“Best you not, woman. Else I might forget we have company and take you over my knee.”

“Not while I be carryin’ the wee bairn. Now off with’e. Off! Off!”

It made her equal parts sad and warmed, seeing the two act this way. It was the same with any time she encountered a happy couple. Sometimes, she was terribly jealous and other times she was simply grateful the brief time she had been given with Steve.

Chief seemed to catch her turn of mood and onto the direction of her thoughts. He offered her a kind, soft smile, then turned his attention to their hostess. She was bringing the pot out to set on the table and ushering them to follow along with her and have a seat, to warm themselves with tea by the fire while she attended the meal. She also apologized for it being only a humble stew of sheep’s meat and thickly cut vegetables. Chief had already assured her it would be the best meal he had eaten since he left America.

When Charlie had returned, their hostess was just pouring the stew into the final bowl, so Charlie took right to bringing two bowls out to Diana and Chief. There was no official dining room, Diana had noticed. Only a small kitchen and then a large room with a fireplace, overstuffed chairs, and what Etta had explained to her was a coffee table, as well as two end tables that held glass lamps and a few other little things.

Mary brought out her own bowl and handed another to Charlie. She seemed a bit embarrassed at the simple meal and humble furnishings. Diana had not been so comfortable in someone’s home since she left Themyscira.

“Mary, this stew tastes almost like one my aunt Menalippe used to make.”

“Oh, thank you. I had worried you mightn’t like it, being simple Scottish fair.”

“Warms the soul and the hands, Ms.Mary.”, Chief added.

She blushed at the compliments, then smiled.

“It is delicious, Mary.”, Charlie told her with a kind look.

They enjoyed their meal, with Mary and Charlie telling them about the farm and of the plans for their son they were expecting. Chief kept shooting the same smirk towards Diana every time Mary or Charlie mentioned the son they expected to have. Diana did not mention Chief’s prediction nor her own suspicion that the child was to come sooner than Mary or Charlie thought. Diana hadn’t much experience around expectant women, though she knew much of the process of creating and birthing a child, thanks to her studies on Themyscira. Mary was definitely further along than she believed herself to be.

After dinner, Charlie collected the bowls and insisted Mary put her feet up on the seat of Charlie’s chair. Once she did and Charlie had settled a blanket over her legs, Charlie moved to the small piano on the edge of the room. Diana had noticed it when they first arrived, wondering if it had been there already when Charlie and Mary arrived, if it had been a gift, if it was Mary’s, if it was Charlie’s, and whether or not Charlie played it.

“He plays for my every evening, even when he’s yawnin’ and barely awake.”

Chief and Diana both smiled to hear it, before Charlie went over and placed his weathered hands over the keys. He went right into an old ballad about love and national pride, while Mary occasionally chimed in. Chief laughed at a few parts that had cultural references Diana had not yet grasped, though the scene warmed her heart. The whole scene, a happily married couple soon to have their first child, friends enjoying each other’s company in peacetime, a home filled with love and laughter- and song, dirty dishes in the kitchen with the remaining stew in the pot colouring the air with it’s scent, and the whole place almost glowed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Several songs later, Charlie was carrying his slumbering wife to bed. He apologized that there was only one bed in the room they were preparing for the baby. Chief and Diana waved him off, both accustomed to camping and such.

“Diana, you take the bedroom. After so much time spent sleeping under the stars, I’m still getting used to sleeping under a roof. I’ll set up by the fire, perhaps fool my senses into thinking I am camped out below my stars.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded.

“I’ve seen the bedroom, it is very small. I would probably run out screaming, at three in the morning.”

Diana nodded. She had found most of Steve’s men had certain sensitivities, dues to their time spent in the middle of a war. Sameer had trouble being in places that were quiet, Charlie had trouble shooting and did not care for enclosed and small spaces, Chief appeared to share Charlie’s feelings, and Etta got twitchy when she was around fireworks. War had done a lot of damage, for which there was no scar to mark the event.

Taking her small bag, Diana went to the smaller bedroom, seeing the little bed with the iron frame, pale blue curtains with green vine and little white flowers, a cradle in the opposite corner of the room, and a beautiful rocking chair. Of all the furniture Diana had encountered so far in Man’s world, rocking chairs might have been one of the few pieces that had really caught her eye. They were lovely. Graceful and elegant looking, yet sturdy and solid. A functional piece that could also be a work of art. Diana could already picture Mary in it, rocking the little girl to sleep.

Changing to her preferred long shirt, she made sure her bags were out and ready for her to quickly dress in the morning. The last thing she did before going to sleep, was to take out her sword and, out of habit, lay it within easy reach of the bed. It was not the Godkiller she had taken from Themyscira only to learn it was not the legendary weapon she believed it to be. No, this was the one she had crafted for herself.

A month ago, she had been forced to use a long piece of unformed iron, to defend she and Etta. After that, she had gone straight to work on making herself a sword. She could use a gun as well as any man, however she found them to be an unrefined, rough tool. If she was going to fight, to defend, to protect as an Amazon was sworn to do, she would need a weapon she could rely on. One she had comfort and experience in wielding. A sword made for an Amazon.

The materials were that of Man’s world, but the technique for making it and the design she crafted it with were Amazonian. On the boat over to Scotland, Chief had spotted her new sword, noticing that it was not identical to her old one.

“Why didn’t you make one that looked like your Godkiller?”

“I did not need a god-killing sword.”

He nodded, moving closer to study the sword in her hand as she cleaned it.

“Well made, nice balance. Longer handle, makes for a better two-handed grip if the situation calls for it.”

“You sound like Antiope.”

“Who?”

“My aunt. She taught me to use a sword. And archery, horseback riding. My mother forbade it. Antiope preferred to think of it as preparing me. She neglected to inform me what I was being prepared for, until she lay dying in my arms.”

“When did this happen?”

“The day Steve crashed his plane into the waters, just beyond the beach I learned to ride on.”

Chief had sighed, looking out the small port window at the night sky and the sea below. If not for the larger boat and the noise of those aboard, it could have been one of the small sailboats or fishing boats from Themyscira. In fact, aboard a ship or small boat, on the sea, was where Diana felt most at home and the closest to her sisters. Sometimes, when she was at sea, she could almost hear the music of the Amazons.

“Antiope favored a longer handle. My mother was the one who liked a shorter handle and wider hilt. She used to train with twin swords. Antiope’s preferred weapon was the bow. She was our fastest archer, and second most accurate.”

“Who was the first?”

“Ionee. But she preferred to shoot left-handed, so Antiope made me go to her for lessons, when I got older.”

Chief had gestured towards the sword, clearly wanting to have a look. Diana moved, letting him hold it. He handled it with great reverence, as if understanding that this was almost a piece of home for Diana. When he gestured to the writing she had etched into the blade, near the hilt, she swallowed, hoping he would not ask her to translate.

“You etched a story in here.”

“Sometimes I think you can read dead languages, Chief.”

He smiled, gesturing to one part.

“Steve.”

She nodded. Chief passed the sword back to her, watching as she gave it one final wipe before sliding it into the scabbard.

“The etching there was deeper, and done a bit more carefully than the rest. I do not need to be able to read dead languages, to know when someone was writing about one they loved and one they lost.”

For a moment, Diana could not breathe. Her lungs would not expand. She finally forced herself to calm, to center, then the air came and went naturally. Her pain was still fresh, for Steve and for Antiope. It had not yet been a year. Diana had gone all her life without seeing the death of anyone she cared for, then in the span of a few days she lost some of her sisters, Antiope, the entire village of Veld, and finally Steve. Chief’s large, rough hand gently covered the back of her own hand.

“What does the rest say? Does it tell of Amazons and gods?”

She let out a breath, forcing a small smile.

“It begins with a god, dying and unable to stop his terrible son’s wrath, creating a child with the Queen of the Amazons, then follows as this child grows and is educated in secret for the battle she did not know she would face. Of the day a man fell from the sky, a battle raged, loved ones were lost protecting their home and each other, then a girl who did not know she was a god-killer, being turned loose in the world of men. Of this Great War, her journey made with new friends, the loss at Veld, Steve’s final flight, the defeat of Ares, and of her new life, fashioned with friends just as this sword was fashioned in the world of Men.”

Chief nodded.

“May it serve you well, Princess.”

She nodded. Chief had gone off to bed and Diana had been shortly following to slumber. When she woke, she could smell burned coals, oils, and what she thought might have been charred leather. Looking up, she had found Chief cleaning a bowl.

“Chief?”

“Do not be alarmed, it is a protection charm. To ward off evil spirits away from your sword. Might improve your dreams a little. My grandfather said he had done this for some, and they told him they had fewer nightmares and got better sleep when the blessed item was near.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile, then left her room to return to his own. Chief was the only person in Man’s world who could sneak up on Diana. Not close enough to touch her, even in sleep, just close enough to be in the room with her without disturbing her. Before joining him to look for the shore and then Charlie, Diana had pulled out her things and added the beginning marks in her blade, to be finished later. She added a bit about it being blessed by a wise man, a combination of material from Man’s world and knowledge of the Amazons, dedicating it to Antiope and Steve, the two people who had guided her to her path and each having died protecting their people.

When they were done visiting, Diana intended to further indent the marks, making them permanent rather than temporary lines. For now, she would test this idea that it might help her sleep. It would be nice to sleep the night through, without a nightmare or waking up to the smell of a burned plane and the screaming of Menolippe as she came to cradle Antiope’s slain form.

Diana pulled back the navy covers, settling into the bed. It was comfortable, if a bit short and narrow. And it creaked when she moved, yet it was almost as comfortable as her childhood bed had been. Diana let out a long breath and closed her eyes. Three breaths later, she was almost asleep except still awake enough to notice something. A scent. One she had not been near in months.

Smoke, hot metal, gun powder, airplane fuel, and evergreens. _Steve_. Steve’s scent. Diana swore she could smell it as strongly as she had that night in Veld. Sighing, Diana’s tired mind insisted on sleep.

“Goodnight, Steve.”, she offered to the shadows.

Meanwhile, in the next room, Charlie slumbered soundly beside his wife. She was on her side, as the midwife had instructed her to do, her back to Charlie. He had an arm around her, keeping it low and almost over her hips rather than her ribs, as his arm and the baby made it hard for her to breathe, but the warmth of him helped her back, or so she said. Charlie just liked holding her.

His nose was buried in her wavy brown hair, his arm around her with his hand splayed over the growing babe, their legs tangled, yet he did not dream of her. Instead, he was in Paris. He hadn’t been to Paris in years, and yet it looked just as he remembered.

He was sitting at a café, other people milling about here and there, buying bread and bottles of wine. Glancing over, he saw a familiar face sitting in the seat next to him. The American scoundrel, Steve Trevor. Steve had his own bottle of American beer, taking a long drink of it as he sat, watching the people going by.

“Mary says she thinks the babe will be here sooner than the doctor told her. Midwife agrees with Mary. Our boy ought to be here by Easter time.”

“That’s great, Charlie. What are you going to name her?”

“Well, I had thought a boy could be wee Charlie, Charles Junior. I suppose a little girl, she would need a prettier name than wee Charlie.”

“Yes, you cannot name a beautiful little girl ‘wee Charlie’. What about Fiona?”

“Nah, had a cousin by that name an’ she was a crazy one, that girl.”

“Ask Mary what she wants to name a little girl. I’m sure she knows a few pretty names.”

“I’m sure she does. Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Steve smiled, setting his bottle aside, now empty.

“No worries, Charlie. Just don’t you forget how to sing. Mary will be busy with all those girls and she’ll need you to do a lot of the singing and teaching them to play piano when they get older.”

“I won’t forget.”

Steve smiled, then stood and walked off, disappearing down the street. Charlie sighed. He was going to miss Steve, but the man was right. Mary would have plenty to do with all the wee bairns they planned to be having. The least he could do was sing them each to sleep at night and teach them to play piano, so they could impress the priests and future gentlemen callers as they grew up to be fine ladies, like their mother.

Charlie woke, his eyes drifting to Mary’s neck and up to her profile. A sliver of moonlight cast a beautiful glow over her. She looked almost ethereal, unearthly. She was beautiful, his beloved Mary. Leaning a little, he kissed her.

“I love yee, Mary. Thank you for bein’ mine and lettin’ me be yours.”

She smiled a little, even though he was sure she was quite asleep. And on the other side of the wall, by the fireplace, Chief was also having his own thoughts as he stared at the flames. Memories of a burning wreckage in the sky and fire all around the three of them, while Diana raged in her own battle with the god of war. Just as he was about to settle back into his nest of blankets and sleep, he caught a scent in the air.

Evergreens, airplane fuel, gun powder, smoke, and warm metal. The scents that always made him think of his friend and comrade, Steven Trevor. Chief concentrated on the scent for a moment and then, for a moment, he felt it. A warm, firm hand on his shoulder.

Letting out a breath, Chief nodded and then bedded down. It was time to sleep. He would discuss this with Diana in the morning, as he was sure if Steve were making this much effort, he would not have done it for Chief’s benefit alone. He likely came for Diana, and Chief was getting some comfort as well, Charlie as well, Chief would wager.

~*~*~*~*~

Sameer had felt lost, coming back from his meeting. He had gone in the daylight, with a friend who knew his way around. Now, at night, in a foreign city, with snow coming down hard and the wind whipping at him, he was completely disoriented. He had thought it had been four rights, a left, then another right, and two lefts. So reversing that, he should have been back at the hotel almost an hour ago.

He was hopelessly lost. And no matter who he stopped to ask directions, he was ignored or dodged. He was from the so-called Middle East, he was not a demon, yet he was treated like a plague-carrier. He sighed and then shivered further into his coat. It was going to be a long, cold night.

Then, he heard it. His name. Someone with an American accent, saying his name. Sameer followed it. Most likely the wind was playing tricks with his half-frozen mind, however he would risk it.

Following along, he kept hearing it from someone irritatingly just out of sight. Finally, Sameer had been just about to give up when he came around a corner and saw the front doors of his hotel, just across the street. Whatever the sound was, the wind, a strange person, or entirely his own imagination- it had brought him to the hotel.

Sameer quickly crossed the street and made his way up the stairs, to the front door. However, at the door, the oddest thing happened. He caught a strange odor. Gun powder, evergreens, aftershave, and smoke. It was odd. And familiar.

Steve. Steve Trevor, hero and dead, Sameer’s friend. Chief had mentioned, on one occasion, that he had felt the presence of his dead grandfather and he had smelled the man’s pipe smoke and other things Chief associated with his grandfather. Perhaps the wind hadn’t just been wind, afterall.

Upon reaching his room, Sameer decided to write a letter to Chief, straight away. Chief would know if Sameer were simply losing his mind due to panic and the cold, or if he had really experienced something.

~*~*~*~*~

Diana read Chief’s letter, explaining what Sameer told him in a recent letter of his own. Then she looked over at Etta. Etta had just told her that morning, that the day after Diana and Chief left to visit Charlie, she had the oddest dream involving Steve.

“Etta, you never did tell me about this dream you had, the one with Steve?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“No, please. Tell me?”

Etta smiled a little sheepishly, however she still told the story. Diana did not think she was imagining the blush colouring her blonde friend’s cheeks, either. Setting her cup of tea aside, Etta began.

“I had talked to Adam, over dinner, the night before and then we had breakfast before he had to go to his meeting and I had to go to mine. I didn’t see him the rest of the day, or anyone friendly for that matter, everyone was growling about this and that. So when I went to bed, I was so tired, I do believe I was soundly asleep before my head had even hit the pillow. Then, the next thing I knew, I was a beautiful little park that’s near where I grew up. And I was on a bench, when I realized someone was sitting beside me. I turned to say ‘hello’ and it was Steve. Alive and well, eating candy out of a little bag. He even looked like he’d recently had a bath and shaved. I asked what he was doing there, and he shrugged, before telling me that I was screwing things up with Adam, then telling me to just tell Adam I had feelings for him and would like to persue them if he was willing. Then he told me that I was doing a good job at work, that I would far, far above average. He gave me a cheeky grin, kissed my cheek, bid me to have a good night despite it having been the middle of a beautiful day in the dream, and he walked off. When I woke up, I could remember it all as if it had just happened and I swore the room smelled of his aftershave. So, that next evening when Adam and I were talking, I made it plain to him how I felt and what I wanted.”

“And?”, Diana inquired.

Etta grinned almost manically. “He was relieved, saying he had felt the same for me yet was not sure I was amenable to exploring anything between us. I told him I was, very, very amenable.”

Diana was happy for her friend, truly. The woman deserved everything that made her smile, including a good man like Adam Hallus. And, it seemed, Steve had agreed.

“Do you think it is odd, that I had that dream?”

“Why? While we were visiting, Charlie said he had a similar dream, where Steve talked to him about the baby. This note from Chief relates how Sameer sent him a letter saying he thought he heard Steve calling his name when he was lost in a foreign city, and it lead him to his hotel. Chief also told me he had an experience like this, while we visiting Charlie. Is it so strange, in Man’s World, to think Steve may have visited each of us?”

Etta smiled.

“I rather like the idea of Steve being our guardian angel. Looking out for the lot of us. Makes it feel like he’s still part of the team.”

Diana nodded.

“Will you finish etching into your sword today?”, Etta asked before sipping her tea.

“I believe so. Then, perhaps if you are feeling adventurous, I’ll teach you how to throw knives. You still want to learn?”

Etta almost appeared to be bouncing in her seat, barely managing not to empty the contents of her cup, onto her lap.

“Oh yes! Very much so!”

Diana smiled over the rim of her own cup.

“Very well, after lunch, knife lessons.”

Etta grinned and then sipped her tea. Diana was glad of this, to have these friends. Even if he was not a spirit wandering this world, Steve was still looking out for her. He had been given just enough time to introduce her to Charlie, Chief, Sameer, and Etta, all of whom had helped her, each in their own way, in the wake of losing Steve and winning the war. She would have been lost without them.

Later, as she finished etching the final note of the tale onto her sword’s blade, Diana smiled. Looking to the sky, she located a cloud that was shaped somewhat like the plane Steve had first crashed in, just off the coast of Themyscira. Looking at that cloud, Diana smiled.

“Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

She held her sword up, inspecting her work. Then she did a few experimental spins and swipes with it, letting it sing in the air. It even felt like Antiope’s sword.

“Antiope, look after him for me?”

Turning, she began heading for the small country house she and Etta were staying in. It was time to teach Etta how to throw knives, then she thought she might teach the secretary how to use a whip. It would keep the men at a distance and if used properly, could take their rifles away from them. No one would know what hit them when they faced off against Etta Candy.


End file.
